The Cyclist
“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail time. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery – isolation. Isolation is a gift…”
Charles Bukowski
Cornel Mancas, 50.
How easy is it to get on a plane from DC to Beijing, take a taxi from the airport to a hotel, a bus to the Great Wall where you tick off the obligatory selfie, then return home on the same route?
That is not what I am looking for.
I lived the first half of my life in Romania, the rest in the United States. I call them both home equally. In recent years I discovered a great passion for abnormal travel or things that took me out of an ordinary life. I wouldn’t say a career adventurer, just a few escapades here and there. I started with some smaller things: illegally crossing an international border, running marathons, jumping out of an airplane (with a parachute), climbing Kilimanjaro. Finally, I crossed Africa from Cape Town to Port Said on a bicycle.
Two days after the end of the four-month African expedition, rested and with hot coffee for breakfast, I wondered what is next? What is bigger and more rigorous than Africa? Europe bores me to death, the United States even more so… therefore, I decided to take it to the extreme; I will attempt to pedal Asia on the Pamir Highway, applying the EFI (Every Fucking Inch) rule – however, no record will be broken. Why? Because I’m 50 years old, and according to statistics I only have a quarter of a century left in me. A bike, thousands of miles, many countries and one person with a mission to help underprivileged children motivate senior citizens. This would prove to me and fellow middle-aged comrades that anything is possible. There is life after 50.
A few things are certain. First, let’s be honest; as the TV show says, there are 1000 Ways To… fail. I will start the tour and who knows how far I reach. Yes, I will accept failure. I’d rather fail majestically than not try at all. Second, there will NOT be a single selfie. There are enough selfies in the world. No need for mine.
I will keep a daily journal for all who want to join virtually. Departure day is April 2, 2023 from Constantinople. I want to write a beautiful story. I anticipate it will be an uphill battle against the difficulties in expressing my feelings, but I have to try anyway… and hopefully write something of value. I never liked composing but I have to overcome my fears. I will have to do the impossible, or dishonor will cover me completely. I can deal with shame, something else is important: to reach the other side of Asia in one piece.